Rabble Rousers

Public toilets are a problem,And we are considered racists,No matter what we do or say,Is that the American Way?Does politically correct mean,Playing the insane card?Accepting everything and anything,Going backwards instead of forward?Enough is Enough!Of false liberality,All dignity charred,Extinguishing, all individualityControl, absolute controlOf your lost soul.

Once tasted,Necessity, tugsAs a MustAnd you crave itsBiting, lust,That serenades,The dustWe are allMade of.

Poetry does sustain,With its sometimes happy,Sometimes sad, refrain.

And Yet,Can you believeWhat anyone says?Confused and obfuscated,We reach for the Truth,Knowing, very well,It’s been strangled, Murdered!In an invisible telephone booth.

We are all perfectly freeLive in mental harmony.Art reveals, creativity,In some, a necessityMost of us, not fraud or stoneWhen we love, we’re not alone,Only hate does separateThat has been our saddest fate.